


something in the air is giving me bad ideas

by serenitysea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Rocket Launchers, Teambuilding, a little cracky, everyone picks on miles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a terrible explosion in the distance.</p><p>Ward looks up and tracks the sound from the east to see Skye at the top of the hill with a rocket launcher slung over her shoulder.</p><p>"This," he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in pain, "Can’t be good." </p><p>(set three months-ish post-finale.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	something in the air is giving me bad ideas

**Author's Note:**

> so this was _supposed_ to be this short little prompt fill exploring the platonic relationship between grant ward and kara. AND THEN MILES CAME ALONG AND MUCKED IT ALL UP. 
> 
> apologies in advance this might be a little cracky.

There is a terrible explosion in the distance.  
  
Ward looks up and tracks the sound from the east to see Skye at the top of the hill with a rocket launcher slung over her shoulder.  
  
"This," he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in pain, "Can’t be good."  
  
*  
  
( _72 hours earlier._ )  
  
  
Skye wakes up and suddenly empties the contents of her stomach.  
  
"Ugh," says a disturbingly familiar voice.  
  
She blinks and tries to clear her vision. Miles sits in a chair next to her bed.  
  
  
(She does not say: “Didn’t we _leave_ your sorry ass in China?”)  
  
(She does not say: “How has the Rising Tide not _fired_ you yet?”)  
  
(She does not say: “I can’t believe I wasted years of my life with you.”)  
  
  
But she cannot keep the incredulity from her voice. “… _How_?”  
  
He shrugs. “I found you sacked out in a pub. Figured it was best to get you somewhere safe before any threats appeared.”  
  
Something about his phrasing doesn’t sit right with her. She has heard that tone of voice before — and from a particular man in her life — but never from Miles.  
  
"Miles. What," she tries valiantly to keep her breathing under control and ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach, "Did you do?"  
  
There is a loud crash from the other room, followed by muffled swearing.  
  
He at least has the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t know who else to call.”  
  
Skye can’t help it. She makes a somewhat strangled sound of frustration.  
  
Unfortunately because he’s always had some kind of super spy hearing, it has the added bonus of drawing Grant Ward into the room.  
  
They lock eyes and Miles backs away in a form of self-preservation and also an indication of his sometimes-questionable intelligence. “So I’m just gonna…” He leaves the room, closing the door behind him quietly.  
  
Skye is acutely aware of the fact that she has just thrown up, her hair is a rats nest of tangles and the last time she saw Ward, she had just fired several bullets into his chest.  
  
There is no way this ends well.  
  
He continues to stare at her and she doesn’t know what exactly is supposed to happen now.  
  
Is she to thank him for helping Miles to get her out of a random pub? Does she ask him to get in touch with SHIELD? Should she try to escape on window once she’s made him mad enough to leave the room?  
  
Saving her from having to attempt any form of awkward conversation is a soft knock at the door, followed by Agent 33 — Kara — once again firmly in possession of her own face.  
  
"Have at it," Ward grumbles under his breath as he passes Kara. "At least she hasn’t tried to kill you yet."  
  
"Oh _come on_ ,” She cries out.  
  
"Actually," Kara trails off thoughtfully, before dissolving into a wry grin. "Sorry. That’s probably too soon."  
  
The off-color streak of humor is surprising. Judging by the fact that she hasn’t tried to kill her and isn’t wearing May’s face, Skye deduces that she’s no longer under Hydra control. It’s actually more reassuring a thought than she would have realized.   
  
Skye meets her gaze evenly. “I have to go. My team is looking for me.”  
  
Kara nods and continues to stand there calmly. “First you need to regain your strength.”  
  
"My strength is fine," Skye says dismissively, climbing out bed and promptly collapsing to the floor. She stares down her legs in horror as if she can’t believe her own body has betrayed her so cruelly.  
  
"So you weren’t in the best of shape when Miles found you," Kara says, helping her to her feet. "Which is why he called us."  
  
Skye sighs heavily and lets her head fall back against the mattress. “Tell me everything.”  
  
*  
  
Lunch is an almost civilized affair.  
  
Skye drinks more coffee than is probably strictly advisable — pointedly ignoring Ward’s knowing gaze — and limits her conversation to Kara and Miles. Finally the topic shifts to their current situation.  
  
"So do we at least have a plan for getting out of here?"  
  
Miles and Kara turn to Ward. Skye can’t hide her sigh of frustration. “Why am I _not_ surprised?”  
  
*  
  
When Ward haltingly tells her that they need to acquire an artifact of questionable origin and that he will help her get back to SHIELD if she just get them inside the compound, Skye has had enough.  
  
"You’ve _got_ to be kidding me!” She stands up so quickly that her chair falls over. “I don’t know you who’re working for or —”  
  
"— Trust me," Ward mutters, "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you —"  
  
"— why you think I’d help you steal something —"  
  
*  
  
"Are they always," Kara pauses delicately, searching for a diplomatic phrasing, "like this?"  
  
"No." Miles shakes his head, absently passing over the popcorn he’d kept on hand just for this purpose. Once Kara has taken a large mouthful, he continues, "Usually they’re much worse."  
  
Popcorn goes everywhere.  
  
*  
  
"— If we don’t get it first, Hydra will use it to kill Gifteds." Ward says firmly, not needing to raise his voice as Skye has finally taken a breath.  
  
She inhales sharply, and he knows that this makes the job hit all too closely to home.  
  
"Fine," she finally agrees. "But I say when and where we go in."  
  
"You’re the expert," he mockingly tosses back. He turns to the compound blueprints — presumably to review variable and potential threats — very effectively dismissing her.  
  
It shouldn’t hurt that he’s being openly sarcastic with her — it’s progress, after all.  
  
It just feels like —  
  
 _Whatever_. It doesn’t matter.  
  
*  
  
After she has prowled the entire length of the little chateau Miles has rented (under several false names and a bouncing piggyback of three bank accounts), Skye has taken to reorganizing the small room Miles has re-purposed as his office.

(It is not going well.)  
  
"Skye." Miles holds up his hands in surrender. "We have pretty much unlimited resources here. I can get you whatever you want."  
  
Skye shoots a mutinous glare over where Ward and Kara are huddled, discussing something in low tones.  
  
"Except for that." Miles rolled his eyes. "They aren’t going anywhere. Isn’t there anything else you’ve always wanted and couldn’t get while you were with SHIELD?"  
  
The speculative gleam that enters her eyes makes him wary (for he is no stranger to Skye and her bold aspirations) but is nothing compared to the way his stomach bottoms out when she decisively answers:  
  
"I’ve always wanted a rocket launcher."  
  
*  
  
They spend the next day finishing up their recon and Skye is privately forced to admit that Kara and Ward make a formidable team. She prefers not to dwell on the sick feeling she has in the pit of her stomach when she sees their dark heads bent toward each other in conference and redirects her frustration at Miles (who is not at all thrilled).  
  
She spends the majority of her time outside, sitting quietly and centering herself (the way May has taught her). It makes it easier to reach down and find the _shift_ of the earth that she can control and lovingly harness like a close friend.  
  
… And when a blinding smile and _girl you know i make this look good_ enters her train of thought and shatters her control, well —  
  
At least there’s nothing breakable in the middle of an open field.  
  
*  
  
"And when you tell her she can’t do something," Miles shakes his head, disgust evident in his expression. "Forget it. You might as well have just started World War Three."  
  
Ward tips back the last of his beer. “Far be it for her to acknowledge that someone else _might_ actually know what they’re doing and have a plan for _survival_.” He stifles a burp. “It’s all guns blazing with her or else the pout begins and —”  
  
"— Oh, the _pouting_.” Miles covers his face with both hands. “The _epic_ _pouting_. She could win a medal.”  
  
"And then," Ward continues, warming to the topic, "When you somehow manage to overcome it — because it takes a special kind of immunity against that kind of power — she finds another way to —"  
  
"— Another way to _what_?” Skye archly inquires, from where she is standing just inside the doorway.  
  
It is unclear how much of the conversation she has actually overheard, but judging by the look on her face… it’s not good.  
  
"Skye, we were just —" Ward sits up straight.  
  
"Oh, I know what you were _just._ " She glares at them both.  
  
The shelves begin to rattle ominously.  
  
"I’m going out." She turns on her heel and slams the door.  
  
Miles breathes a sigh of relief while Ward appears to be waiting for the other shoe to (figuratively) drop. They hear soft murmuring and the front door close as the house falls silent.   
  
Suddenly, every piece of ceramic dinnerware _shatters_.  
  
“ _Dammit_ Skye!”  
  
Ward sighs heavily.  
  
"I’m never going to get back the security deposit now." Miles said, staring at the remnants of their kitchen.  
  
*  
  
"So what I think we should do is —"  
  
Skye clears her throat pointedly, interrupting Ward mid-speech.  
  
He takes in her all-black attire and the weapon leaned against her side and can’t help but snort derisively. “Who do you think you are — _Nick Fury_?”  
  
Kara glances heavenward and shakes her head minutely when Miles opens his mouth to interfere. She grabs him at the wrist and pulls him off to the side as Skye and Ward begin arguing in hushed, fevered tones.  
  
"What are the odds of us going in within the next twenty minutes?" Miles asks, glancing down at his phone and thumbing through various alerts and news bulletins.  
  
Kara takes in the barely-leashed frustration and anger that seems to be coming off Ward in waves and then factors the way the ground seems to rumble every so often under her feet.  
  
"I’d say we have enough time to grab a quick bite," she estimates. "And I’m really craving fish and chips from that place around the corner."  
  
"Square deal," Miles gallantly offers his plaid button down, while she swaps him for her flak jacket. "I’m a little hungry myself."  
  
Kara stares critically at the way he barely fills out her jacket. “You need carbs.”  
  
"Finally, a problem we can _solve_.” Miles trudges onward, looking forward to the first decent meal he’s had in days.  
  
*  
  
Skye opens her mouth to retort when Ward throws up his hand sharply, indicating for her to be silent.  
  
“ _What_?” She hisses, bending at the knees slightly to accommodate for the reactive trembling beneath their feet.  
  
Ward stumbles awkwardly and shoots her a betrayed look, gesturing to the ground. “Can’t you _do_ something about that?”  
  
” _Ooops_ ,” she says sweetly with a murderous look in her eyes.  
  
He rolls his eyes. “It looks like Miles and Kara have deserted and,” he glances around, taking in lack of options for cover, “We’re going to have company soon.”  
  
"Leave that to me," Skye confidently promises, neatly evading his reach and sprinting up the hill.  
  
*  
  
Something explodes loudly outside, rattling the windows.  
  
Chaos breaks out inside the pub as the various patrons scramble toward the window to get a better look.  
  
Miles and Kara remain seated for another beat, and stare at each other in resignation.  
  
Kara sighs mournfully at her basket of fish and chips, regretfully pushing them aside and getting to her feet. “This is why we can’t have nice meals.”  
  
Miles is already halfway out the door. “That was the signal. C’mon, we gotta go!”  
  
"Civilians," she mutters, swiping a handful of peanuts from the bar.  
  
*  
  
Ward frowns when he realizes that Skye is not just coming his way, but running full tilt back down the hill. There is something cradled awkwardly under her arm. It isn’t until she gets closer that he can make it out as the artifact.  
  
"Skye!" His eyes widen in alarm. "You have to keep it stable or —"  
  
A huge tremor rocks the field and she lifts her head, meeting his eyes urgently. “That wasn’t me!”  
  
Gunfire erupts and she drops to the ground on instinct.  
  
"Can’t you —"  
  
Shots are fired from the top of the hill, landing far too close to her for comfort.  
  
"— do something about that!" Ward finishes, standing up and laying out return fire.  
  
She tries to inch closer but whoever they just stole from isn’t happy with the current predicament and seems to be using every bit of firepower at their disposal.  
  
"Hey," Kara says by way of greeting, jogging past him to run to where Skye is still crouched on the ground.  
  
Ward stares incredulously at Miles. “…Is that Kara’s _jacket_?”  
  
"Times are hard," Miles defensively protests, pulling out his tablet and working on jamming the communications from the other side.  
  
"Boundaries. There was a day when we used to have them." Ward says to himself, picking off the shots that get too close to where the girls are.  
  
*  
  
"Roll over," Kara urgently shouts to Skye.  
  
"Are you nuts?" Skye hisses, shifting to protect the artifact from any rogue bullets.  
  
"Just _do it,_ " Kara insists, shoving at the other woman forcefully.  
  
Skye winds up sprawled flat out on her stomach, inhaling a mouthful of grass. “This had better not be payback,” she grumbles as Kara efficiently arms the rocket launcher.  
  
The resounding _BOOM_ is enough to wipe out the threat so that they can get away relatively easy.  
  
"I’m not having the fun you promised me," Miles yells while running to the car.  
  
"Shut up, Miles!" Skye and Ward shout from where they are covering his path.  
  
Kara brings up the rear, holding the artifact. “Got it,” she raises it triumphantly and goes to open her door when she cries out and stumbles. There is red streaking down from her shoulder.  
  
"I’ve got this," Skye assures him, glancing at Kara. "Help her instead."  
  
Ward gently tucks Kara safely into the back of the SUV and tries not to curse when a rippling wave of power echoes beneath their feet.  
  
There are loud shouts of anger and then blessed silence. Skye is white with strain. Her lips are pressed together tightly and she won’t meet his eyes.  
  
When he moves to intercept her and check for injury, she ducks from his reach and slips into the passenger seat. He has no choice but to climb in behind her, leaving him with no way to assess how she is feeling.  
  
"Let’s get out of here," Ward breathes heavily and then instructs Miles to drive very, _very_ fast.  
  
*  
  
Kara and Ward have been locked away in the upstairs bedroom for almost an hour. What had begun as a mission ‘debrief’ rapidly escalated into raised voices and things being slammed around.  
  
Miles had made a move to turn on the TV and Skye nearly put a bullet through his hand.  
  
"Okay, no TV," he allowed, backing off and disappearing into the kitchen.  
  
When he doesn’t come back, Skye has a brief pang of conscience that she firmly squashes as she creeps up the stairs to see if she can listen in on the discussion between her former SO and his partner.  
  
"But if you _love_ her —”  
  
The rest of Kara’s statement is lost to Ward’s undecipherable reply.  
  
Skye pulls away from the door and slinks back to her room.  
  
She decides that she doesn’t really want to hear what his answer is anyway.  
  
It takes a long time for her to fall asleep that night.  
  
*  
  
She wakes up again and immediately claps a hand over her mouth. A trashcan is pushed onto her lap and she neatly manages to puke inside.  
  
"We’ve got to stop meeting like this," Miles says, a grossed out expression on his face. "Tell your boyfriend to stop making decisions without asking the rest of the team."  
  
"He’s not my boyfriend," Skye automatically retorts, taking in their surroundings. Then she sees his left wrist handcuffed to the bedpost. "What the hell?"  
  
There is a knock on the door and Coulson strides in with a relieved expression. “Thank god.”  
  
"I’m happy to see you too, sir," Miles chimes in, wincing under the dark glare of Melinda May. "Though I do wish it were under better circumstances."  
  
"Shut up, Miles," Skye and Coulson say in unison.  
  
"What is going on?" Skye asks May, once Coulson has gotten back on his phone and in the middle of conducting a very _direct_ phone call in the hallway outside.  
  
"We got a message that you’d be here with an artifact." May takes a thorough inventory of Skye’s current state.  
  
Skye has to make a conscious decision to unclench her fists at May’s raised eyebrow. “I’m fine,” She lies, and doesn’t even bother apologizing for the lack of conviction in her voice.  
  
This isn’t something she is going to discuss in front of Miles.  
  
"What _really_ happened out there?”  
  
Skye thinks back to the way the rocket launcher rumbled underneath her palms and how it is not entirely unlike the powers she is learning to harness. She thinks of the quirky grin Kara would shoot her when Ward was being his typical, stubborn self. Of how Miles complained about everything but secretly loved when they sat down to eat at the scarred, wide table. That the last thing she dimly remembers are strong arms around her and fingers brushing the hair out of her face and it had felt _safe_.  
  
"Skye?" May prompts, drawing her out of her thoughts.  
  
"I don’t really know," Skye finally answers.  
  
"Yeah, right." Miles snorts under his breath, drawing glares from both women. He raises his one hand in surrender.  
  
"We can still drop you off in China on our way to the States," May trails off thoughtfully.  
  
A thoughtful statement by Melinda May is a threat and a promise from anyone else.  
  
Skye smiles and shakes her head. “Nah. Let’s make a stop in LA. We can save him a commute.”  
  
Miles breathes a sigh of relief and mouths _thank you_. Skye gets to her feet gingerly, and tries not to give into the feeling of deja vu when May moves into position when her knees buckle slightly.  
  
She makes her way to the tiny bathroom and takes stock of her appearance. She can hear Coulson and May arguing with Miles and rolls her eyes. He still hasn’t learned when to quit.  
  
It isn’t until she goes to dry her hands on the back of her pants that she discovers the paper tucked into her pocket.  
  
There is a picture of a badly drawn stick figure with long hair and what looks it should be a rocket launcher propped up next to it. Off to the side, there is another, taller stick figure.

Scribbled underneath are the words: _don’t worry, i’ll keep them safe. —k_.

And Skye can’t help but laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> \+ [tumblr](http://b-isforbombshell.tumblr.com).  
> \+ title comes from WALKTHEMOON's _sidekick_. (fitting, don't you think?)


End file.
